After dinner, Elara and Sera cleaned up the dishes together. Theo grabbed a wooden chair outside the house looking up at the starry sky, while looking he let his mind naturally drift far.

  Mr. Bran also grabbed a chair toward the front, sitting together with his son. He held a branch of Oak Hemlock—a parasitic plant on oak trunks, having satisfying and nerve-soothing effects, an excellent choice for addicted mountain folk—lit it and took a long drag.

  "You've already decided, Theo?" Mr. Bran asked, voice hoarse and deep.

  Theo looked at him, wrinkling his nose slightly at the smoke wafting out. He immediately stood up, pulling his chair about 3 meters away. Then, he sat down again, continuing to look at the stars.

  "Cough, cough..." Mr. Bran choked on smoke due to his son's action.

  He looked at the half-burned Hemlock branch in his hand, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, he rubbed out the fire then stored it in his pocket. He once again scooted his chair near his son, silently looking in the direction his son faced. Mr. Bran didn't understand what was so attractive about the sky that Theo had looked at from small to grown with such contemplative appearance.

  Father and son sat beside each other in quietness, only the gentle light of stars remaining, along with smoke smell still lingering on Mr. Bran's clothes and sandalwood mint essential oil scent on Theo's ear.

  "Father," Theo spoke first, voice certain like a decision formed long ago. "I will leave two days from now. On Sol's Day."

  Mr. Bran startled, turning sharply to look at his son:

  "Go where? Greenhaven? That's very far, needs to travel a whole week!" Mr. Bran exclaimed. In his mind, Greenhaven (a city specializing in forest product collection, about 175–245 km from Oakhaven, a commercial port of Veridia city-state) was the farthest point a town youth could think of.

  Theo looked straight into the night:

  "No, perhaps farther. I will become a mercenary."

  Mr. Bran was somewhat bewildered at his son's answer. The atmosphere sank into silence again.

  By habit, Mr. Bran took the Oak Hemlock branch from his pocket, but only hesitated looking at Theo then lightly held it in his mouth. He looked up at the stars again, eyes unfocused.

  Silent for about ten minutes, he finally spoke, voice strangely calm:

  "Mercenary, huh? That's also a choice."

  He knew he couldn't stop his son. Theo wasn't like other children. When same-age children were still curious, afraid to take first steps, Theo could already stand firm and walk. When other children just learned to speak, Theo could already ask questions that made him freeze for a long time. Sometimes, he solitary gazed at moonlight alone, while other children laughed and played running before the yard.

  He knew his son was different, but of course, a small town lumberjack didn't know what had happened to his eldest son. Theo grew up healthy and normal like any other child, only one difference: he was smarter, always had excellent ideas helping the family, and Theo was very independent, even very disciplined. Part of the rules in this house were proposed by Theo and enforced on everyone.

  His son was very authoritative, Theo had a very unique way of making others do what he wanted. He knew Theo never changed—still strange as when small—but the way of expression had just become different.

  Mr. Bran looked at Theo, voice deep and slow, containing absolute trust:

  "I know you've thought carefully about your choice, Theo. You're smarter than anyone I know, including Town Leader Alaric or Pastor Bartholomew. Each of your decisions has been thought through to an extent I can't imagine."

  Mr. Bran placed his left hand on Theo's right shoulder, the father's weight seeming to transmit silent support. But his eyes didn't dare look straight at Theo; he once again looked at the stars:

  "I can only tell you this, Theo," Mr. Bran said softly. "This house will always keep your small loft space. That bed, Elara and I will regularly clean it, will always..."

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  Theo felt the weight on his shoulder. He no longer looked up at the sky, but turned to look straight at his father, eyes profound yet full of determination.

  "Will always be where I return to, Father," Theo said softly, as if sealing a covenant. "I know. And I promise."

  Theo gave a light whistle. From above the roof, Al immediately flew down, landing gently on his shoulder. The small Pidgey looked truly majestic under the warm yellow light cast from the house.

  "This is Al," Theo continued, hand gently stroking the bird's feathers. "It will always bring my news home to Father and Mother."

  Theo grinned, a smile both sincere and mysterious. He stood up, collecting the chair.

  "Now Father can smoke his Hemlock branch. It will help Father sleep better."

  Theo left, leaving Mr. Bran still stunned watching his son's and the Pidgey's shadow that had just suddenly appeared. Mr. Bran looked down at the Oak Hemlock branch in his hand, then looked up at the starry sky again, seemingly he now had something to think about for the next two days.

  Theo stored the chair neatly inside the house.

  In the attic loft, two little brothers Finn and Ben were already asleep on the bunk bed after a joyful day. Theo shook his head, thinking: Already told not to sleep right after eating... been hit too little. G planned to "educate" Finn and Ben tomorrow. G responded in serious voice: "Noted."

  Finn and Ben suddenly rang out with mumbling sleep voices, perhaps experiencing some nightmare.

  In the downstairs corner, Sera was preparing blankets for her parents. Still a good, diligent, thoughtful little sister. The little girl had a lifestyle quite similar to Theo because he'd adjusted her from small: quite disciplined and autonomous, though not as mature as Theo but all the more lovable.

  Elara after storing dishes had finished wiping them onto the shelf. She walked out looking at Theo, her eyes warm but heavy. She stretched up her hand to pat his head. Theo bent down slightly forward so she wouldn't strain.

  "My son has grown taller once more," she remarked, her voice brief but heavy with longing.

  Theo listened silently. With a mother's intuition, though not hearing Theo's conversation with Father, she also suspected his strangeness.

  Looking carefully at Theo once, she sighed:

  "Theo, you are the sturdiest bird, will fly farthest, I believe and always believe that. But if tired, come back here to enjoy my stew, okay?" The rough, thin hand from work pressed on Theo's face.

  He grasped her hand, squeezing tightly but not saying a word. The shadow of mother and son printed on the old oak wooden wall, a quiet image in late Oakhaven night.

  Theo returned to his small loft. Al was perched on the wooden chest. He gently patted the Pidgey's head, using his hand to comb through the bird's soft plumage. His eyes looked out the small window, gazing at the small town sinking in night starlight.

  A small sound rang at the door. Theo turned to look—it was Sera. The little girl was standing nestled at the door, head peeking in looking at Theo, glancing at Al, then looking at him again.

  Theo placed Al back on the wooden chest. He lightly patted his left hand down on the position beside the straw bed.

  "Come here."

  Sera slowly stepped closer to Theo, glancing at Al once more then sitting down beside him.

  The little girl spoke up, voice small and light carrying suspicion:

  “Will you go far away, Brother Theo?”

  Theo propped his right hand under his chin, studying Sera for a moment, his eyes deep, as if trying to read the little girl’s thoughts.

  “How do you know?” he asked gently.

  Sera clutched the straw bedsheet tightly.

  “I heard you and Mother talking. I guessed.”

  “I see.” Theo kept his chin propped, his gaze steady on her.

  “When will you come back?” Sera’s voice carried a hint of anxiety, as though she were waiting for an answer she hoped to hear.

  Theo didn’t respond at once. He straightened his back, his left hand resting on Sera’s head, patting it lightly. His voice softened.

  “It will be a long time.”

  “But… but…” Sera’s voice trembled, her throat tightening. She couldn’t find any reason to stop him from leaving.

  Theo began to stroke his sister’s hair, slow and rhythmic, gently brushing from the crown of her head down her back, trying to calm her tangled emotions.

  After a while, he spoke again, his voice low and steady.

  “While I’m gone, take good care of Father, Mother, and the others at home.”

  Still stroking her hair, Theo continued, as if sealing a promise.

  “I’ll bring gifts back for all of you.”

  Some time later, Sera finally calmed down. Theo withdrew his hand and returned to his old posture, propping his chin again as he looked at her.

  Having regained her composure, Sera spoke softly.

  “You’ll come back to visit us, right? Father and Mother too?”

  Theo met her eyes directly, his gaze firm and reassuring.

  “Of course.”

  Sera was about to ask more. “But you’re planning to—”

  Theo gently raised his index finger, pressing it lightly against her lips.

  “Sera, it’s late. What did I tell you?”

  The little girl understood. It was time to sleep. Theo had always made sure she rested and woke on schedule; that rule had never changed. She slowly stood up, her steps reluctant. Just as she reached the door, she turned back.

  “I… I’m going to sleep.”

  Theo turned to the window, gazing once more at the small town resting quietly under the night sky.

  “Remember your dental hygiene… and sleep well,” he murmured,

  just loud enough for Sera—and himself—to hear.

  After Sera left, Theo turned to look at the closed door. He said nothing, silent for a while...

  Then he took out Long-lasting Incense and Mint Cake. He would spend ninety minutes absorbing mana. He didn't like destroying plans he'd set.